


Roommates

by somniatoressinespes



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Mainly angst, Modern AU, but it ends well I promise, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 08:04:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10849860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somniatoressinespes/pseuds/somniatoressinespes
Summary: You walk in on her phone call.You didn't mean to.But you did.or "how words are weird and make messes" a manual by Clarke Griffin





	Roommates

You walk in on her phone call.

 

You didn't mean to.

 

But you did.

 

It was Friday and you were done with work and excited to be finally home, you parked the car in the same spot you parked it for years just in front of the corner shop near your shared apartment. You had bought flowers. But you walk in on her conversation and the flowers now feel as dead as your heart.

 

(You had never thought about it this way but gifting flowers was a fucking weird way to be romantic, you're basically giving someone dead plants that will be pretty and colorful for two, three days and then will start to wither and fall apart. You are gifting a life cut short by gardeners, how could something dead show affection to the one you love?)

 

It only takes five words and the flowers and your keys fall from your hands to the carpet with a quiet thud.

 

“It's just my roommate.” Lexa said into the phone, as if you've never been anything else to her for the past three years. As if you don't share an apartment and a bed. As if you never kissed or told each other I love yous cuddled up under a blanket fort. It breaks your heart a little- read a lot- that she can't tell the truth about your relationship to her family, that you still have to hide beneath false pretenses of friendship and roommate-ry, to have to pretend that the girl in front of you is anything short of your soulmate, the girl you love and will love for the rest of your life. But what breaks your heart more is that you know she's hurting too, but not enough for her to say the truth, never enough to tell her parents about you. And it shouldn't hurt but it does because you're so sure about her and what if she isn't?

 

Lexa turns then, ever so beautiful, and it takes your breath away, she always does. But it tastes bittersweet, how she can smile and lie in the same breath. She says goodbye to whichever family member is on the phone, comes closer and kisses you, what else can you do if not fall apart under her hands, succumb to her mouth like a ship in the tempest.

 

“You're home.” she says smiling in your mouth, “I missed you.”

 

You pick up the bouquet from the floor and offer them to her, shut those feelings away for another day and follow her in the kitchen where she puts some water in a vase for the flowers.

 

“Long day at work?” you ask her, noticing the dark lines beneath her eyes.

 

“The longest. You think that Harvard graduates would know how to use a computer. I swear they bought their way in with daddy's money.” she puts the vase on the table, turning your back

to you as she does so.

 

“You say that as if your parents didn't pay for you to go to Harvard, too.” you tease her smirking, coming closer and closer, entranced by her light like a moth, like Icarus, hoping you don't end up burning your wings by flying too close to your sun, too.

 

She laughs and pulls you incredibly closer, until you're completely pressed against her so that you can feel her breath on your lips and her warmth under your fingertips. You can't help but smile and hold her and kiss her, kiss her, kiss her.

 

* * *

 

You wake up in her arms, drowning in gold light that frames her making her look like a renaissance painting, holy and ethereal. You draw her closer and breath in her scent, wondering how you can love someone so, she stirs and turns in your arms to face you and you remember. She's so close you can see the flecks of gold in her green eyes and count her eyelashes, you kiss her despite the morning breath and get lost in the feeling of her lips against yours.

 

You love weekends- slow and soft, sun-kissed skin and bedsheets- but most of all you love weekends with her, with no expectations. You love pretending there is no other being on this world but you two and each other arms.

 

She straddles you and kisses you once deeply, she pulls slightly away sitting on her talons but you follow her peppering her face with kisses.

 

“We should get breakfast.” she tries to say when you give her no space to get away.

 

“Mmm,” you murmur against her skin, “or we could stay in bed. Do we really need food anyway?”

 

Laughing she stands and pulls you with her towards the kitchen, louring you like a siren (you'd willing drown if she asked you to). You put on some pants and follow her.

 

“So, what are you making?” she asks me as I enter the room.

 

“Well, you're the one who wanted breakfast so badly so you should make it, yeah? Or,” you move your fingers lightly up her arm, “you could take me back to bed and we'll eat something else.”

 

“Clarkeee,” she whines, “No we can't. I have to see my uncle today and I can't be late. You know he doesn't tolerate tardiness.”

 

“Yeah, he doesn't tolerate lots of things.” you mutter under your breath.

 

“Please, let's not do this today”

 

You just sigh and move around in the kitchen to start preparing breakfast. You learned long ago when to let a fight with her go, and this is a fight you can't do anymore because when you will have it you know something will break and it's either gonna be her relationship with her family or the one with you.

 

(You'd never ask her of that.)

 

But you were never good at leaving scabs alone and you just had to say it.

 

“When then?”

 

And like that the bliss of the morning falls apart.

 

“Why do you insist every time, Clarke? You knew the situation when you met me, you knew what you were getting into when you asked me out and that didn't stop you, did it? How can you ask me to defy my family?” she says this in a harsh voice that doesn't belong to her and you have to stop yourself from reaching out and hug her.

 

You instead turn away and whisper your worst fear: “You mean I'm not worth it.”

 

Silence is the only response you get, you steel yourself and face her again. Her expressions are usually so carefully under control, a perfect mask, a fact that reminds you every time that she's a lawyer, but this time you can see raw emotions painted all over her face. That would have stopped you any other day but the word roommate sits heavily on your heart and tongue so you continue.

 

“That's it, isn't it? You can say all you want that I chose this but you did too. You _chose_ to go out with me, you _chose_ to love me and now you're taking it back. You're taking it back for an ungrateful family that you _know_ will never accept you, and yet you try so hard and you're let down every time. And I was there to pick the pieces but I can't be anymore, it's tearing my heart apart to watch you destroy yourself like this.”

 

“So this is it? You're breaking us up?” she whispers.

 

“I'm giving you a choice.” Your hands are trembling as you put on your jacket and get out of the house.

 

* * *

 

You're sitting in your car and you're shaking.

 

You left her. You promised never to leave her. How could you leave her? No, you didn't. The ball is in her court now and she can chose. But was it fair of you to ask her to chose? You're devoured by doubts and regrets. Why couldn't you let it be? Why did you do this to yourself?

 

Your hands are now shaking uncontrollably. You now you're having a panic attack but you can't stop it. You turn on the radio and turn up the volume as far as it can go. You breath along with the drums until the weight over your chest lifts a little, tears start to fill your eyes but you brush them angrily away. You put your now steady hands over the wheels but you don't have a destination.

 

Your mom is out of the question, you were never close and since your father death you're just slipping farther apart. Bellamy will want to _talk_ about it, Raven will try to get you drunk, your relationship with Octavia is still rocky, and you just want to talk with Wells- you miss him, you miss him so much. But he's not coming back and you can't stop, the world goes by fast and it seems you just can't keep up.

 

You glance at the watch on the dashboard. So now that's about five minutes since you've entered the car and you still don't know where to go. Fucking fantastic. Maybe you can wait until Lexa goes to see bald Satan -aka her “uncle”- and get some of your stuff to last you for a couple days. God, you're so lost. Is this the co-dependence Raven always talks about? The fact that it has literally been less than ten minutes and you already miss her, the fact you terribly want to go back to your apartment and tell her you were wrong just to hold her again? What does that say of you? Maybe that you are a sucker for a pretty face.

 

(maybe that you love her more than you do yourself)

 

This isn't a situation you're liking very much. Obviously. Was Lexa right in saying you knew what you were getting into? You had met her in college through Octavia, they played in the same soccer team, and she seemed like a dream. She was smart and focused and maybe a little bit stuck up, but mostly what caught your eye, she was pretty hot. She didn't want a serious relationship and so did you. A match made in heaven, really. You started as a one stand that became a kind of regular thing because _hey, you're hot and so am I, wanna keep doing this?_ You really hadn't foreseen that you'd love her, you never had really did love before her and it took you so off guard you avoided her for a week before kissing her outside her class and asking her on a date. Not your proudest moment but still, you got the girl. And now you lost her. Maybe. Most probably.

 

You slam your hand on the steering wheel and the horn goes off startling a poor grandma on a bench nearby. Okay, you can do this. You're lying in a bed of your own making after all, and you're not a quitter, read you're stubborn. You turn the key and start the engine with no destination in mind, but maybe the fact that you can drive at all is a good sign. You take the main road that goes along the ocean, the same road you took so many times with her hand over your thigh while you drove.

 

You can still remember her face when you took her to the beach for the first time. She lit up and her smile was so light for once, it was like seeing an overexcited puppy. You spent the whole day building sand castles, the water still to cold to do anything else. It may have been the best day of your life, but everyday was the best when you were near her. Now that you think about it, she kind of ruined the ocean for you, and car rides, and lazy mornings, and pancakes. She kind of ruined everything for you. You'll never see anything as you did before you met her, not the ocean, not the sky, not the stars. She crashed into your life and made a Lexa-dent into it. You should hate her for it, but you only find yourself loving her more.

 

God, she ruined _you_.

 

You stop at the same spot you used to go to with your parents when you went to the beach, the one near the big, tall rock where all kids went to jump in the summer. You wanted to do so too, when you were six, but your mom didn't want you too until you were at least twelve. Your father promised he'd jump with you when you were older. You never did. He got sick soon after you turned twelve. The years sort of blurred after that, you went from hospital to hospital, from new city to new city, following innovative cures that didn't work and doctors who said the same things. He died in Kansas City when you were fourteen, a ghost of himself. Your mother didn't tell you until hours after he had gone. You where at a stupid sleepover and you were so excited because it was your first, (Moving constantly is not a good factor in making friends). You went home and wanted to tell everything to your dad, only to discover he had died hours ago, and your mother didn't come take you for his last moments. You still haven't gone past that. (You don't think you ever will.).

 

After that you didn't go back home, you stayed in Kansas stuck in the last place your father had seen. You went back home only after you finished high school, but you were different from the girl who wanted to jump off a small cliff, and so was the city you had left behind. But it was there, in college, where you met everyone, and it felt like a fresh start for that little girl you had left behind. You threw yourself into studying pre-med and partying, never dating though. Lexa had changed that. You quit pre-med for art when she asked you why you were doing something only to please your mother (the irony is not lost on you). You stopped getting wasted every weekend because the only thing you wanted to do was stay with her and watch stupid, boring documentaries. You started dating when you realized you loved her and, most amazingly, she loved you too.

 

“You're here.”

 

You are so startled you almost jump into the water. You turn and you see Lexa, bent over, panting as if she had been running across town. “You're here.” she repeats, sounding so relieved and surprised you almost answer that _yes,_ _I am_ _._ She steps closer, her chest still heaving with every little breath she takes- beautiful, so beautiful every time, she's a masterpiece and you stand when you only want to kneel, because you have a feeling this is a standing conversation, not a sitting-in-front-of-the-sea one and certainly not a worshipping-you-on-my-knees one- hopefully that one will happen later.

 

"You found me,” you start, “I didn't think you would.” the _search for me_ stays silent but it's there and that hurts but not as much as watching Lexa face fall.

 

“Of course.” she lifts her hand as if she wanted to touch you but she stops mid-reach, letting her hand fall limp to her side, “Of course I found you, I won't ever stop finding you and I'm sorry you thought for even one minute that I wouldn't. God, how could you even think I wouldn't? How could I have made you think that? I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but please don't leave. You were right, god, you were right, I'm seeking my uncle approval when he's nothing, _nothing_ , and you are everything.”

 

And then the inconceivable happens and Lexa starts to cry, quiet sobs and big tears, but continues through it, continues to mumble sorry-es and don't-leave-s while river flows from her eyes and sobs shake through her. You can't take it anymore and you crash into her. You were hurting but she was hurting too, and you'd never noticed or maybe you were too headstrong to do so. She shakes in your arms and you're shaking too but you have to tell her you love her, so you take a step back and look into those big green eyes and tell her, and tell her, and tell her. Until the tears fade away and all that remains is you and her standing in front of each other, until all that remains is just you and her in love. And you know you have still issues to work through, and words that should not be left unspoken anymore, but you also have love and commitment and maybe that's enough.

 

Yeah, it's more than enough.

 


End file.
